Avery Hamilton Worcester Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, so I’m Cersei fuckin’ Lannister, right? Cold disdain, “I choose violence.” Standin’ here, cashier gig, judgin’ the world. This prostitute walks in—heels clickin’, stench o’ cheap perfume. Reminds me of that nag in *The Turin Horse*—worn out, draggin’ through life. “What use is this?” I mutter, like that flick’s bleak-ass line. She’s buyin’ smokes, lipstick—red as blood, tacky as hell. I’m thinkin’, “Girl, you’re a walkin’ corpse.” Kinda sad, kinda pisses me off.

Worcester's Main South neighborhood as seen by the people who bind it together

Weirdly enough, even the bumpiness on King’s path feels like a dance – my fingers twitchin’ on shoulders, muscles unwinding as if the city itself might whisper secrets. Gah, my hands know all its flaws and charms! I even found a hidden mural on Maple near the river bend. Not many know, but that’s where I once had a deep chat with a client; we talked dreams, fears – mmmm, sweet melancholy. Luv it!

Healey picks Worcester public defender to be Superior Court judge